


Cupid Wore a Snapback

by geriatricsupersoldiers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Date Auction, F/F, Fraternities & Sororities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geriatricsupersoldiers/pseuds/geriatricsupersoldiers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fitz begrudgingly agrees to accompany Jemma to her sorority's date auction fundraiser, he plans to make his contribution to the cause at the bar, but ends up leaving with more than a slight buzz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid Wore a Snapback

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I went into this with a limited knowledge of A) the actual goings-on of a date auction, and B) any sororities/fraternities. I do know that Kappa Alpha Theta and Phi Gamma Delta have an actual brother/sister relationship, but, frankly, I didn't really think it was vital to the story to research much beyond that.
> 
> As is usually the case, I apologize for the lame title, and as is always the case, I encourage you the leave your comments and concrit. Thanks for reading C;
> 
> (PS: 3000 words even?? I don't think I could do that again if I tried.)

It was a stupid and down-right offensive prospect-- the idea of parading actual, living human beings around like especially attractive cattle. And to add to the indignity, people bid on them like fancy artwork that you get to share a meal with and maybe take to bed before hanging on the wall. It was essentially prostitution for charity.

“Oh, honestly Fitz, it's just a bit of fun. It's not like the bidders are actually buying _sex_. Most of the time, the people bidding are friends of the brothers and sisters on auction, anyway-- not some _strangers_ expecting to get _laid_.”

Jemma had somehow convinced Fitz to accompany her to the date auction fundraiser that her sorority and its brother fraternity were holding to benefit a local community learning center that gives kids extracurricular and summertime learning opportunities, and he hadn't stopped complaining since. If it hadn't been for such a good cause, Jemma's requests to keep her company while she bids on her own girlfriend for a date may have landed on deaf ears.

“There's not even an open bar, which means, even if I don't spend money on a _person_ \--”

“ _Date_.”

“-- I still have to spend money so as to avoid sitting through this torture while sober.”

“It's a _fundraiser_ , Fitz. We're not just going to offer free liquor to university students who would probably drink us dry, then not bid a single dollar.”

She had a point, but he wasn't about to admit that. Not when his plan had been to get completely trashed and make snarky comments to anyone who would listen.

Fiddling with his tie, Fitz made his first stop at the bar as soon as they arrived.

Only $4 for a cocktail? Well, if he had to pay, at least the prices were reasonable.

Gin and tonic in hand, he found Jemma seated at a table at the very front of the room, practically butted up against the edge of the stage, with Lance Hunter seated next to her.

Fitz would never _not_ think it was bizarre for Jemma to be hanging out with her girlfriend’s ex, but he supposed that was between three of them. He was an ok guy-- kind of a dick sometimes, but generally good-natured.

“Hope you brought plenty of cash with you, Simmons,” Fitz could overhear him as he approached the table. “I’ve already got my date with Bobbi planned out.”

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” She swatted at him playfully, but she and Fitz both knew that he probably _would_ try to outbid her just because he could. And to torment Bobbi. “Besides, she’s not obligated to actually go on the date with you. It’s in the agreement that you have to sign if you win the auction.”

“Yea, but that’s in case the winner is, like, potentially dangerous or something, isn’t it? Don’t think that covers the winner just being a wanker,” Fitz ignored Jemma’s exaggerated look of betrayal as he took a seat at her other side.

“Thanks, mate,” Hunter gestured with his beer bottle in Fitz’s direction. “I’d take offense to that if you weren’t technically on my side.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Jemma grumbled with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve got my credit cards with me, so just you _try_ and outbid me.”

After tipping his glass back to get at the final drops of his cocktail, Fitz implored, “Jemma, please do not put yourself in debt to win a date with someone you practically live with, anyway.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t _outbid_ you. I’ll just drive the price up a bit,” Hunter offered, immediately recoiling from Jemma’s icy glare. “What? It’s for _charity_ , Jem, I’m trying to do the kids a favor. Besides, I’m sure you’d agree that Bobbi’s worth it.”

And she just couldn’t argue with that, but, unwilling to admit she’d been bested, she turned her attention to Fitz, who was rising from his seat. “Where are you going? The auction’s going to start soon.”

“I’ve got fifteen minutes, and I’d like to spend that time enjoying at least one more drink. Maybe two.”

He was up and away from the table too quickly to hear Jemma’s pleas for him not to get “too drunk,” as if there was such a thing as “too drunk” at a Greek Life function.

He was just doing his part to help the kids, really. Every drink order was a few more dollars in the learning center’s fund, so he didn’t know what she was complaining about.

Besides, two or three drinks was not enough to get him properly drunk-- just comfortably tipsy.

“Back for a refill already?” The bartender smilingly reached for his empty glass, and maybe Fitz was reading too far into it, but that “already” rubbed him the wrong way.

_Yes, actually, I am back already. Is there a problem with that?_

Of course he didn’t say that out loud, because, while he did like to grumble over little annoyances, he wasn’t much for any real confrontation. “Uh, yea.”

It only took a moment for the bartender to mix his drink, and Fitz took a sizable sip of it the moment the glass reached his hands.

“I can mix up another one for you to bring back to your table if you want. I think the show’s about the start.”

And as much as Fitz felt like the guy was making unfair judgments regarding his drinking habits, that was exactly what he wanted, if he was being honest. After a moment of hesitation, mostly for show, he nodded.

If he hadn’t been so pleased with thought of maintaining the buzz that was already making his head feel a little lighter, he would’ve been self-conscious about walking back to the table with two drinks in his hands, especially when he caught sight of Jemma narrowing her eyes as he approached.

He prepared himself to be scolded as he watched her demeanor shift decidedly from friend mode to mother mode, but, much to his relief, the lights began to dim the moment he reached his seat.

“ _Fitz_ ,” she hissed. “What did I--"

With a self-satisfied smirk, he shushed her, pointing to the stage where one of the frat brothers was approaching the podium. With his tux and visibly unwashed hair that was likely smothered under a baseball cap any other day, he looked something akin to a shaggy mutt wearing a bedazzled collar.

Fitz inwardly lamented the fact that he probably wouldn’t even be treated to the sight of cute guys in formal wear-- not if they all looked like this walking bro stereotype-- and was all the more thankful for the full glass that still awaited him.

“Alright, thank you all for coming to the 4th Annual Kappa Alpha Theta/Phi Gamma Delta Date Auction Fundraiser,” their dude-bro host for the evening began, taking a moment to gesture emphatically toward the horde of frat brothers cheering and whooping loudly from the back of the room. “I'm your host, Kyle Cumberland, Beta Mu chapter president of Phi Gamma Delta, but tonight, you can call me Cupid.” _Ugggh._ “Tonight is not about me, though. It's not even about our fellow brothers and sisters who will be auctioning off their time in just a few minutes. It's about the kids--”

_And_ _blah blah blah._ Fitz exchanged the second empty glass of the evening in his hand for the third full one as “president” Kyle carried on explaining the evening's philanthropic purpose with a staggering number of the-children-are-our-future-themed platitudes.

“... and now, let's get the show on the road!”

Jemma's girlfriend, Bobbi, was the very first one up, which didn't come as much of a surprise to Fitz. She was probably the most beautiful of all the sorority sisters up for auction, so what better way to get people to pull their wallets out right off the bat.

Those poor saps had no idea who they were messing with in Jemma Simmons, though. Come hell or high water (or credit card debt), she was going to win that date.

It turned out that Hunter was _definitely_ not joking about driving up the price. After a long and, honestly, fairly amusing bidding war, Jemma ended up dishing out over $200, but, as cynical as he may have been acting, Fitz could admit that it was worth it to her when he caught sight of the deeply satisfied and equally besotted look on Jemma's face when she was declared the winner.

The next date up for auction was with a guy who was only marginally more attractive than the host, and who received an even rowdier welcome from their fellow brothers in the crowd.

His date went to a rather excitable young woman who Fitz assumed to be his girlfriend, or at least a friend, for $115.

The second sorority sister up for auction garnered an impressive $175 from one of the whooping bros in the back. The second brother earned a modest $75, and the third sister raked in an even $100 for the learning center.

Fitz was getting a little bored with the routine: brother or sister up for auction is introduced; fellow brothers and sisters make loud noises; the boyfriend/girlfriend/platonic friend of the person up for auction bids and eventually wins; rinse and repeat. On top of that, his third glass had long been empty, but he knew he'd face a serious talking-to from Jemma if he dared to get up for a trip to the bar in the middle of the auction.

Slumped down in his seat in an attempt to relieve the stiffness in his back and neck from having been twisted and strained to actually see the people on stage-- brilliant idea getting the table right up front-- Fitz was barely paying attention by the time the third frat brother up for auction was introduced.

“I hope you’ve got your wallets out for this one!” The host-- what was his name again? Anonymous Frat Boy #1?-- announced. “Ladies and gentlemen, Alphonso Mackenzie!”

Fitz was startled out of his boredom by the raucous cheers that erupted around him-- louder than they’d been all night, if that was even possible. He immediately returned his attention to the stage to see what all the fuss was about, and upon laying eyes on the impressive specimen before him, he understood. _Finally_ , some pay-off for enduring the evening's less-than-thrilling events.

Alphonso was grinning bashfully at his own introduction, and Fitz was positive that a man _that_ gorgeous had no business being shy about anything.

“How much is a date with Mack worth to you? Let’s get the bidding started at… $50?” Host-bro’s voice sounded in the periphery of Fitz’s consciousness.

_I would cash out my entire bank account for a chance to_ _ **look**_ _at that man,_ he thought, vaguely aware that bids were already being made around him.

He was gaping, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. This man was _beautiful_ \-- handsome face, great smile, and incredibly tall with what Fitz could only imagine were muscles for _days_ under that perfectly tailored suit.

Distantly, he wondered if he’d wear a suit on the date or if he'd opt for something more casual. He wondered if his skin was nearly as soft as it looked. Wondered how good his cologne smelled, how his large hands would feel resting on Fitz's back or massaging his shoulders or doing... other things.

“$175 going once!”

The announcement snapped Fitz out of his fantasies. He'd never know the answers to any of those questions if he didn't act soon.

“Going twice!”

Mack was smiling proudly at the amount of money he'd helped earn for the fundraiser, and if Fitz could get his mouth to cooperate with his mind, he'd hopefully be smiling even wider.

“One eighty-five!” He exclaimed abruptly, throwing one hand in the air so that there was no doubt where the new winning bid had come from.

Jemma, Hunter and Bobbi, who had joined the table once her auction had ended, shared matching expressions of shocked disbelief, and a quick glance at the stage revealed that both host-bro and Mack seemed equally surprised.

In that moment, Fitz realized that he hadn't been paying a bit of attention to the other bidders up to that point, had no clue who they were, male, female or otherwise, and he was struck with the sudden fear that he may have just made a complete fool of himself by bidding (rather enthusiastically, at that) on a straight guy.

His fears were soon quelled by the charming grin that Mack shot his way. Either this guy was actually quite pleased with this sudden turn of events, or Fitz's wishful thinking was getting the best of him.

“Whoa, alright, a late bidder! How about $195?” The host suggested to whoever it was that Fitz had just outbid-- the bright stage lights made it difficult for him to see across the room.

Whoever it was, though, Fitz telepathically dared them to even _think_ about bidding any higher-- mainly because he honestly didn't have the extra funds to keep this up for much longer. $185 was sort of pushing it, as it was. He would've been lying, though, if he said he wasn't suddenly _very_ determined to win this date.

“No? Anybody, $195?” The previous bidder apparently wasn't willing to offer any more, but host pressed on, trying to get the highest bid he could possibly get, which, ok, that's his job, but Fitz really wished he would just cut it out and declare him the winner, already. “Alright, I've got a winning bid of $185 going once... going twice....”

_Come on, come on! Just say it before some other desperate nerd appears out of nowhere to outbid me like I've just done._

“Sold! Congrats, dude,” host-bro gave a thumb's up in Fitz's general direction before offering Mack a congratulatory slap on the shoulder as he made his way off the stage.

The rest of the table was still staring at Fitz like he had suddenly sprouted another head, but Mack was approaching faster than any of them could manage to say a word.

“Hey,” he greeted Fitz with a bemused smile. “You must be my date, Turbo.”

With that gorgeous face focused directly at him, Fitz felt like he was barely able to breathe-- _Oh god, how am I supposed to make it through an entire date with this man? What have I done?_ \-- but he somehow found the wherewithal to conjure a couple of words in response. “E-excuse me?”

“Man, you're hand shot up so fast right at the last minute, I don't think Tanya knew what hit her.” Tanya must have been the person that he'd outbid. “Don't get me wrong. She's my friend and all, but she's not exactly my ideal date, if you know what I'm saying.”

“ _Oh_.” At least he could rest a little easier knowing he definitely hadn't bid on the straight guy.

“How about I go to the bar and grab us a couple of drinks, then we can start discussing our date plans? I've already got a few ideas that I think would be pretty fun. Might have to go out a couple of times to fit it all in.”

Before Fitz could fully process what he'd just heard, Mack had set off toward the bar, but not without flashing yet another glimmering grin and--

“Did that incredibly large, incredibly beautiful man just _wink_ at you?” Bobbi's voice snapped him back into reality, wherein all of his friends were still trying to sort out what they'd just witnessed.

“Oh good,” he turned back to face them. “I wasn't just imagining that, then.”

“Well done, mate. Looks like twinky little nerds might just be this guy's thing,” Hunter announced and was promptly met with raised brows all around. “What? That's the proper term, isn't it? Twink?”

“Anyway,” Jemma began with a roll of her eyes. “I bet you're happy I dragged you along now, aren't you?”

“Sure.” Happy didn't quite cover it. He'd gone from pouting over his forced attendance to winning a date with an actual living Adonis in the blink of an eye. Fitz was fucking ecstatic. “There's only one small problem.”

“What's that?”

“I don't actually have $185 on me.”

“Fitz!”

“Well, I didn't exactly plan on... this!” He gestured broadly toward the stage then to Mack, who was still standing patiently at the bar waiting for their drinks to be made. “I've got the money, I just don't have it on me.”

“I seem to remember something about someone having all of her credit cards with her tonight,” Hunter hazarded.

Jemma took a moment to shoot him a threatening glance before returning her attention to Fitz, who was silently pleading for her assistance.

“Fine,” she reluctantly agreed with a heavy sigh. “But you _will_ pay me back straight away.”

“Yes, I _promise_ , thank you,” he hastily took the card she was offering and stowed it away in his jacket pocket until he actually needed to use it. “And I will never complain about you dragging me along to your ridiculous sorority date auctions ever again.”

“Well, assuming your _dates_ go well,” Bobbi spoke up, making sure to emphasize her use of the plural. “You'll have a pretty good excuse not to come.”

Fitz didn't know this guy, not really. If he was being honest, he'd bid on him because he thought he was attractive, period. In the handful of moments since then, he had learned that Mack was also quite charming and friendly, but still, they were as good as strangers.

Maybe he'd go out with him once-- which is all Mack was really expected to agree to, anyway-- and they'd have a horrible time and never speak again.

But, as he caught sight of Mack making his way back to their table, two drinks in hand and that same warm smile on his face, Fitz very strongly hoped that wouldn't be case.

 


End file.
